


There's Always A Wall When You Need One

by navigatorsghost



Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Chekov's pot plant, Consensual, Drunken Shenanigans, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Power Dynamics, Weapons Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 12:44:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15707484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navigatorsghost/pseuds/navigatorsghost
Summary: Anything goes at the Bad Guys' Ball - including making out with your 2IC on a tipsy whim. After all, nobody's going to tell Galvatron he can't do whatever he pleases, least of all Cyclonus.  Basically fluff by the standards of the pairing... which is to say there's still gun kink, a bit of mild sadomasochism, and an unscheduled firefight. Oops.





	There's Always A Wall When You Need One

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a [post I found on tumblr](https://robocoochie.tumblr.com/post/138875775072/galvatron-pulling-cyclonus-aside-and-making-out) [warning: source blog is extremely nsfw] with the random thought/prompt: "Galvatron pulling Cyclonus aside and making out with him". The original poster added "can be tender and passionate", but... well, "passionate" is always easy with these two but "tender" is a bit more of a challenge with a couple of born-again war machines who get turned on by each other's capacity for violence. However, I did the best I could and they both seemed to enjoy it, so, here we go.

Despite his legitimate political status, significant power base, and all-around galactic notoriety, it was remarkably rare for the mighty Lord Galvatron, erstwhile Herald of Unicron and current Emperor of the Decepticons, to get invitations to formal events.

It was even rarer for him to accept the ones he did get. Still, he hadn't been able to resist the temptation when he received an invitation to the legendary Multiversal Bad Guys' Ball. The Ball was traditionally held in a newly built venue each year, because it was normal for the previous one to have been razed to the ground in the all-comers firefight that inevitably closed the event. The dress code read simply "armed and dangerous". And invitations were sent out only to the most feared and potent warlords, dictators, supervillains and rogues from across a hundred universes, so there was even a good chance of Galvatron meeting a few people he might actually like.

So here he was, and so far he was surprised at how much he was enjoying himself. While he'd yet to encounter anyone who could match him for single-handed firepower he'd met several who could at least rival him for force of personality, and given that none of them were direct competitors he'd rather enjoyed getting to compare holdings, ideologies, and shameless bragging. After all, taking over the galaxy was so much more fun with an admiring audience...

...though of course, he always had one of those. He glanced to his side, looking appreciatively at his second-in-command. Cyclonus looked nothing short of dramatic, polished to within an inch of his life for the occasion and adorned in shimmering twilight-blue wing-banners studded with chrome; but he'd still spent the whole night carrying himself like he was on a battlefield, constantly scanning the crowd around them for threats, always choosing places to stand where he would be able to cover Galvatron in an instant if any sort of fight were to break out. His optics flicked questioningly back to Galvatron as the warlord looked at him, as though he had somehow felt his liege's regard touch him even across the distance between them.

_Sweet Cyclonus, so loyal..._

That idly fond thought merged in Galvatron's processors with another and less innocent one of just _how beautiful Cyclonus looked_ like this, dressed for a ball and treating it like a warzone, battle-readiness drawn taut in every line of his frame and his optics narrowed in wary vigilance. So dangerous, so proud, so _competent_ , everything Galvatron prized in him...

And the resultant combined thought dissolved with dangerous ease in the not-insignificant quantity of free and excellent high-grade that Galvatron had already loaded his systems with over the course of the evening, and precipitated forth as a whim that the warlord felt no compunction whatsoever about acting on. He scanned their surroundings - ah, yes, a darkened corner with an enormous potted fern in front of it, providing acceptable cover and a modicum of privacy, that would do. "Cyclonus!"

"My lord?" Cyclonus turned instantly to fall into step at his side, looking at him expectantly, and Galvatron felt a fierce heat flood through his core systems. _His_ warrior, _his_ lieutenant - _his_ , and never more desired than when he acted with such instinctive devotion to his lord. Galvatron reached out, took Cyclonus's wrist - the touch winning him a catch of Cyclonus's intakes and a wide-opticked glance - and tugged him unceremoniously into the shadows behind the potted fern.

Cyclonus fell back with a stumble in his step as Galvatron pushed him back in the darkness, up against the wall. "Galvatron-?"

His voice was low, his tone startled but willing, and Galvatron could hear the whine of his warrior's powerful engines spinning up in sudden anticipation. "What?!" he demanded, letting Cyclonus see his grin. "Can't I take what's mine when it pleases me to take it?"

And those were just the right words, because Cyclonus's engine note faltered audibly and he arched up into Galvatron's grip on him with a gasp that was on the brink of becoming a moan. " _Hhh!_ \- you may take anything you desire, mighty Galvatron!" _Especially from me,_ he didn't say, didn't need to say because Galvatron could already feel it in his fields and the way he was clutching at Galvatron's shoulders. And anything else Cyclonus might have added was lost when Galvatron kissed him.

It was a good kiss. But then, any kiss with his lieutenant could never be anything else. The interlock of instinct and desire between them was too perfectly synchronised, they probably couldn't mess it up if they tried on purpose, too much _made for each other_ to ever get this wrong. Galvatron stepping in to pin Cyclonus harder against the wall; Cyclonus tilting his head and parting his lips hungrily for the claiming thrust of Galvatron's glossa into his mouth, the flex and arch of his frame pressing up _into_ his liege's weight and strength rather than pushing him away. "Mmh!" //...oh, my lord-!//

Sweeter by far than the high-grade, the taste of his favourite's surrender. //So you did want me to take you,// he teased over their private radio link, and was answered with a shiver and a burst of heat flaring through Cyclonus's plating; a wordless, unashamed _yes_. Galvatron gladly rewarded him for that with another fierce kiss, and reached with his left hand to run his fingertips up the edge of Cyclonus's wing. The taut metal _sang_ under his touch, an ecstatic struck-steel note that hung in the air and harmonised exquisitely with the sound Cyclonus made against his mouth in response. Galvatron grinned through the kiss in delight. //Oh, there, Cyclonus... more?//

In one sense it was a pointless question. Cyclonus's desire for him was practically hardwired - Galvatron already knew his lieutenant couldn't get enough of this, no matter how much the two of them indulged in it. In another sense it was a _vitally important_ question, because actually _asking_ it resulted in Cyclonus melting against him in a shudder of heat and engine-stutter, his lips parting wider under Galvatron's as he gasped. // _Please,_ my lord!//

His hand had found its way to Galvatron's hip, the touch laced with static and yearning, and Galvatron growled encouragement to him without letting go of the kiss. Cyclonus submitting to his desires was sweet enough; Cyclonus actively seeking to please him in return was even better. Galvatron pressed him closer, crushing their frames together, feeling paint scrape and not caring, and Cyclonus moaned as though that little lick of pain had only whetted his hunger for this.

Not that Galvatron doubted that it had - he knew his lieutenant all too well. He heard the whispers that called him cruel, that claimed he tortured his favourite for his own amusement, but those were the words of mechs who didn't know Cyclonus like he did. Galvatron finally broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to look at Cyclonus; the warrior's optics were half-shuttered and darkened with desire, and Galvatron felt a rush of possessive pride in him. _Beautiful... mine._

He brought his right hand up to run his palm over Cyclonus's chestplate, and even through the weight of armour there he would have sworn he felt the pulse of his lieutenant's laser core quicken for him; when he moved that hand higher to curl it around the side of Cyclonus's helm, he was rewarded with a soft, ragged moan and the sight of Cyclonus turning his head as though chasing that touch with his whole spark. " _Galvatron..._ "

"Cyclonus..." He murmured his favourite's name just to feel Cyclonus thrill at hearing it, brushed his thumb over Cyclonus's lips to watch them part on a barely-voiced gasp of pleasure. He leaned in, close enough to whisper. " _Mine._ "

" _Ohh_ \- yes, mighty Galvatron, always yours..." Cyclonus looked utterly dazed with bliss and desire, but then he visibly pulled himself together with a flicker of his optics and a brief shake of his head. He brought his own hand up, slowly, watching for permission - which Galvatron conceded to him with a smile - and let it come to rest on the barrel of Galvatron's cannon.

Oh, _yes_. Galvatron let slip a low, throaty sound of pure pleasure as Cyclonus's hand slid along the length of the great weapon. The metal itself was polished almost frictionless, but its tight-woven EM fields tingled at the slow, sensual caress and Cyclonus half-smiled, his optics brightening as his glance caught Galvatron's. "My lord...?"

Everyone underestimated his proud lieutenant. _Seducer_ was a role nobody would expect to catch Cyclonus playing - but Cyclonus _knew_ what that touch did to Galvatron, and he was _doing it on purpose_. Stars and void, that was delicious, and Galvatron entirely approved. He pressed against Cyclonus with a growl of encouragement, his mouth seeking out Cyclonus's again for another deep, hard kiss even as the warrior's fingertips seared firetrails of pleasure across the sensors of his weapon systems. Cyclonus accepted the kiss eagerly, his lips locking with Galvatron's, his optic shutters sliding down in grateful surrender...

//You know,// Galvatron told him, the words accompanied by a hard thrust of his glossa that made Cyclonus shiver with delight, //I was only planning to kiss you when this started, but if you keep doing that-!//

//Whatever you will, mighty Galvatron!// And while the _words_ were perfectly submissive and loyal - just as they should be! - the way he arched up against Galvatron and pressed static-drenched fingertips to the metal of the warlord's weapon told a different story entirely. Cyclonus _wanted_ this, no less than Galvatron himself. And very well then, in that case, he was _getting_ it-!

//Galvatron!//

Scourge's voice cut in over their radio link in a yelp of warning - unneeded, in the event, as it came simultaneously with the sound of gunfire behind them. Galvatron pulled back, letting go of Cyclonus and raising his cannon, grinning at the savage rush of mechadrenaline as his combat subroutines kicked online through the tangle of pleasure and lust already overclocking his systems. Cyclonus was right beside him, gun in hand, optics narrowed and his energy signature flaring with anticipation in the moment before his battle-lockdown protocols activated and muted everything that might allow an enemy to read his intentions.

And only just in time, as a quartet of masked figures in formal dress charged at the two Unicronians with heavy exotic guns raised. Galvatron considered for mere microseconds and then shot the pot out from under the potted fern, which collapsed with fine panache and smothered all four attackers in greenery. Galvatron leapt over them, kicked one of them in the head in passing for good measure, and landed lightly in clear space with Cyclonus once again at his side.

The warrior turned to cover his lord's left flank as Galvatron looked around, decided he had no interest in siding with anyone currently in range, and opened up indiscriminately on everything moving. Plasma bolts ricocheted gloriously around the huge mirrored ballroom, deflecting off the crystal chandeliers to all kinds of entertaining effect. Screams echoed, armed guests dived for cover, and several of the huge plate glass windows blew out with gratifying and gratuitous violence. Galvatron flung up his head with a gleeful shout of laughter, sensing rather than seeing Cyclonus's answering grin, not needing to look to _know_ that his lieutenant was right by him and had his back. Just as it ought to be.

Not that the interruption wasn't regrettable, but they'd just have to finish what they'd started afterwards. Possibly atop the smoking wreckage of the grand ballroom, assuming this fight went the way Galvatron was expecting it to...

...he could hardly wait. And he didn't need to ask to know that Cyclonus couldn't either.


End file.
